


With Passionate Breath

by shenko464



Series: The Lion and The Reaver [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Cullen Rutherford, Bottom Cullen Rutherford, Bottom Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Feelings Realization, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Minor The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Mutual Pining, Pining, Praise Kink, Switching, Top Cullen Rutherford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenko464/pseuds/shenko464
Summary: "The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart."
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: The Lion and The Reaver [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674925
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: The Lion's Heart





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a part in a new series, involving a Reaver Inquisitor and our favourite Commander of the Inquisition in a romantic relationship. 
> 
> I'll label any chapter with the appropriate NSFW. 
> 
> Other than that, please enjoy and leave kudos or comment.

Skyhold was a marvelous construct and even after a month of finding this ancient elven fortress, Cullen still had trouble finding his way around without having to refer to a crude drawing, made by Aedan Trevelyan. 

The attempt at drawing the fortress was well-meaning. After all, Aedan, newly appointed Leader of the Inquisition, made it for Cullen just a week after the Inquisition’s arrival.  
“In case you get lost,” were the man’s soft words, so in contrast to the huge warrior. The Herald stood a few inches taller than Cullen and almost reached Iron Bull’s height, a characteristic so unusual for a human noble. 

Leliana informed him that the Trevelyan had roots in the Avvar, though that knowledge was so uncommon, so rare to find, it made the Commander curious to know how in Thedas the spymaster managed to know that bit of information. 

It wouldn’t surprise Cullen at all if Aedan’s family had indeed originated from the warriors of the deep south. The Avvar, powerful and capable of surviving the harsh conditions of their homeland, easily over towered some of the northerners, especially the Fereldens and the Free Marchers.

That Avvar, Sky Watcher, was a prominent example of the southern tribesmen: bulky and strong, with heat rolling off as if the warrior was a furnace. However, what came unbidden to Cullen’s mind was not the newly recruited agent but the dark-haired Trevelyan, clad in medium armor that cruelly showed off the impressive muscles of the warrior’s body. The long dark hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, would have framed the strong chiseled face and the man’s sun-kissed skin sharply contrasted with eyes of sparkling blue color. Normally, anything attaining a lyrium shade of blue would have detracted Cullen’s attraction. 

The blue on anyone else would have reminded the Commander of the tortuous times at the Ferelden Circle of Magi, the screams and the blood that still plagued him to this day. It was only by the Grace of the Maker that the Wardens had arrived to put a stop to Uldred and his madness. Who knew that those same Wardens would rule Ferelden, one as an official King while the other served as a most trusted advisor and lover though the latter were founded on rumors and nothing specific. 

King Alistair had come alone to Redcliffe Castle, without Daylen at his side, according to Aedan. He was also understandably furious at the mages’ handling of their plight and kicked them out of Ferelden. Aedan seemed to have sympathized with the mages and took them in as equal allies, a move that Cullen wholly disagreed with and had a shouting match with Aedan, much to his chagrin. 

__

_“You couldn’t understand,” Aedan muttered in the tail end of their argument. “My sister was in the Circle at Kirkwall and she died due to a ‘misunderstanding’ by a Templar, who was merely using her as a plaything. Abuse by any major power is not something I will stand idly by and do nothing.”  
_ It was their last conversation before Haven happened, before Cullen’s newfound fears clawed into his mind even as he commanded the rest of the Inquisition to follow Roderick and Cole down the path as envisioned by the dying chancellor.

The boy’s ramblings of the Herald did not help either. 

_Cold, alone. I don’t want to die alone. Should have told him. Dark and despairing. Would he miss me?_

Cullen’s heart had clenched at the implications of what the boy was saying but the Commander didn’t have the heart to bring it up, not after seeing the bloody form lying face-down in the snow. Not after seeing the blue lips and realizing that the man wasn’t breathing.  


At that time, Cullen didn’t hesitate at all in placing his lips on top of Aedan’s. His only concern was to bring their only hope of righting this world back to this side of the Veil. His only thought was of seeing blue eyes flutter open, unfocused and cloudy with pain, and a whisper of his name exhaled on an icy breath. 

“Cullen, are you alright?” 

Bright blue eyes, so shockingly different from the ones in his memory, gazed at him in genuine concern. Maker’s breath! For a giant of a man, he walked like an assassin – quiet and light-footed. 

“Y-yes. I was just thinking of how lucky we are to find Skyhold.” Of how we found you, barely alive but not breathing. Maker, his inner thoughts were starting to sound like Cole’s cryptic remarks. The lack of lyrium did not help either and, on some days, it was hard to focus on the reports that constantly littered his desk.

Aedan chuckled lightly, leaning against the wall of the battlements. If Aedan wasn’t careful, he might topple over and fall to his death. However, the man slouched, placing his center of mass below the top part of the wall. The position looked awkward and highly uncomfortable.

“Yes, we are. I’m still wondering how Solas knew of this place. It’s in the middle of nowhere, something that Josephine detests.”

The Herald’s laugh was light and airy. The laughter made the man’s blue eyes sparkle even more and Cullen once more felt the stirrings of longing deep in his loins. 

Aedan had been flirting with everyone back in Haven and Cullen hadn’t yet refused the man’s advances. He figured it was just a light-hearted game, one that signaled to Cullen that it was the man’s way of dealing with the added stress of trying to fix the mess in the Hinterlands as well as close the rifts. 

“Anyway, need a guide to your new office and home?” Aedan was standing again, this time a little too close to Cullen, who felt the man’s warmth radiating even through that thick armor of his. 

“I’m certain I can find my way,” Cullen started to say before looking at the crude map. The action prompted another laugh and Aedan started walking towards his door, not even suggesting to Cullen to follow him. 

As he followed the Herald, he couldn’t help but stare at the broad back and rear. A thought of how well he could hold unto those broad shoulders from behind sneaked its way into his mind and Cullen felt his face blushing suddenly when the man glanced back, a sly smile on that handsome face.

Was the man somehow a mage and just hiding his magic so well underneath all that muscle and armor? 

Maker’s balls, Cullen knew he was attracted to the man but…no…it couldn’t happen. He was the Commander and Aedan, the Herald of the Inquisition.

The two finally made their way into the office and Cullen released a sigh of relief when, for once, there wasn’t a huge stack of papers piling up on his desk. 

“I told Josephine and Leliana to lay off the reports for today at least. You looked like you could use a day off.” 

Aedan’s face turned serious as Cullen regarded the Herald inquisitively.

Cullen felt fine. Perhaps a bit tired and aching from a headache growing in his temples, but he could endure it. 

“I know about it,” Aedan’s voice pulled him out of the pain of a headache. Lips pulled into a soft but sad smile and those blue eyes bore into his as if they could see his spirit.

“It?” Was Aedan referring to his thoughts about him and Aedan?

“The lyrium withdrawal,” the warrior drew closer to him. What is it with Aedan striving to be so close to him?

“I-“ No point denying it now. “So, Cassandra has told you?”

Cullen sighed heavily and he rubbed his temple with a gloved hand, the motion temporarily relieving the ache. 

“No, she hasn’t,” Aedan placed a large hand on his forehead. The man’s hand was cool and Cullen unwittingly let out a relieved sigh. “You’ve got a low fever and your face is pale.  
Sometimes, when no one is looking, your hands shake and reach for something that’s not a sword.”

“What-how?”

“My brother had the same symptoms.”

“Had? He’s…” Cullen didn’t want to finish the sentence. The sadness in the Herald’s eyes answered that unasked question. 

“Just please let me know when you need help,” Aedan’s hands cupped his face and if the gesture had meant to be a friendly one, it felt much more than that. With Aedan this close to him, Cullen could see that the man’s eyes had flecks of orange in the blue.

“I-Yes, Inquisitor,”

“Good,” Aedan pulled back and Cullen had to restrain a moan from escaping him at the loss of that man’s heat. “Now, get some rest, Commander.”

Although it sounded like an order, Aedan’s gentle tone made it into a request by someone who cares for him and Cullen promised that he’ll try to take care of himself, at least to see that tender side of the Herald.

-o0o-

#### A month later 

Killing a dragon was hard work but Dagna had insisted that she needed dragon’s blood and bones to craft Cullen’s new armor. 

Aedan hissed as the ancient beast swung its tail around, hoping to catch him off guard and send him flying into the stone hills nearby. He rolled underneath the blow and brought his ax around to strike deep into the creature’s leg. 

A resounding roar of pain deafened Aedan’s ears, almost to the point of making them bleed, but the warrior drew on the beginnings of his Reaver training. Draw strength from your pain and make it your enemy’s. 

The deep wound in Aedan’s side, thanks to razor-sharp talons that pierced his armor and bit into his flesh, bled sluggishly. Aedan concentrated and drew himself into a blood frenzy, gaining animalistic strength that allowed the reaver to cleave deep gouges into the leg and eventually hacking it off. 

The dragon shrieked in anguish and Aedan expertly rolled to the side, barely avoiding being crushed underneath the dragon’s immense weight.

“Oh piss! Herald’s almost down! Vivvy, Vivvy!” Sera’s panicked exclamations didn’t help calm Aedan’s nerves but he knew it was Sera’s way of showing concern for him.

The blonde elf was quirky and provided much comedic relief to his life. When surrounded by fanatics on both sides of the Templar-Mage War, Aedan found himself in need of those who scoffed at traditions. Dorian and Sera were almost always in his scouting ventures with Vivienne a close second as she was the only one who could heal the entire group. 

At first, the court enchanter struggled with not healing Aedan when he was wounded.  
However, after subsequent hard battles of when drawing power from his blood healed more than her spells in drastic moments, she acquiesced and merely kept a close eye on his health, often summoning barrier after barrier, even with his guard up and strengthened by his war cries.

“Sera, if you please desist from shouting, I can focus on what needs to be done,” the enchanter spoke coolly. How she manages to sound so casual, even being injured herself and fighting a beast that could very well kill them in one blow, was beyond Aedan. So long as she provided defensive buffs, Aedan was fine in letting the two females banter. 

Dorian shouted something, the mage too far away for Aedan to ascertain the exact words. Then expletives exploded into the air as the dragon’s wings whipped in the air, creating a vortex that pulled everybody in, including Vivienne and Sera.

“Maker’s balls,” Aedan shouted and he ducked to avoid being brushed aside by an errant wing. The motion sent tendrils of agony again through his side. 

There’s no helping it now.

Pulling all the anger that he held within himself, all the frustration and anguish he’d gone through just to get here, he shifted his focus and let out an anguished roar of his own, a sound that rivaled the dragon’s sounding challenge. 

A red haze covered his vision and he would have lost himself in his self-inflicted maelstrom of agony and suffering were it not for the image of a blonde man, the amber eyes imploring him to come back to himself. The person who was the main reason why Aedan even wanted to come here and fight the dragon when it was well above their current skill level. 

_Seek a cornerstone and use it to guide you through the rampage. Don’t get taken away by your passions._

Breaker Thram’s voice echoed in his head and Aedan’s red haze cleared till it hovered over the edges of his vision. The dragon had become his main focus now and he poured all his might into each strike. 

Each thrust and strike allowed him to use the dragon’s blood as necessary sustenance. Each shriek of pain drove him to strike faster and harder until the dragon gave a blood-curdling scream before collapsing on its side, its hot breath expelling in a weak fire stream and barely missing Sera. 

Someone was murmuring in his ear and he jerked upwards, not liking at an enemy sneaking upon him. He swung his ax around only to find himself stuck in place. Muscles strained against invisible bonds and Aedan growled, hating at being held captive. He pulled a leg up and then fell forward as his side wound flared hotly. 

With the dragon dead and the life no longer providing its force to the dragon’s blood, Aedan’s rampage dissipated as quickly as it had begun. 

The warrior collapsed to his hands and knees, panting and shivering as his body felt so cold, so stiff. Crap…Breaker Thram warned me about overdoing this…

Images of the Commander welcomed him with open arms and Aedan drifted off, no longer able to resist that soft smile on Cullen’s face.

_“Aedan…why do you look at me like that?” Evelyn regarded him neutrally, no flicker of emotion shone in those emerald eyes as they used when they were children and laughing and innocent._

_“No…no…no! Anything but this! Please!” Aedan moaned and he clutched at his sister’s form. It pained him when Evelyn’s arms stayed at her sides, unmoved by her brother’s sadness nor her older brother’s anger at the person responsible._

_“Who did this? Whoever did this will pay,” Lucien’s voice was harsh and loud. If it were any other mage, he or she would have cowed at the aggressive tone. Evelyn did not flinch nor did her face blanch with fear._

_“It was a templar from the House of Reese. He said I was too weak, that I allowed a demon to take over.”_

_“No! No, you’ve passed your Harrowing! You were next in line to become First Enchanter,” Aedan sobbed and he clutched at his sister tightly, wishing that perhaps his actions could somehow reach Evelyn in the dark depths of Tranquility._

_“Aedan…she’s gone…” Lucien said softly and he laid a hand on Aedan’s shoulder. “She…she needs…”_

_“No, I won’t do it, I won’t!” Aedan vehemently said and Lucien sighed._

_“We made a promise as a family. Even mother and father are here, supporting us. You know Evelyn. You’d know she’d never want to live her life like this.”_

_The family knife was placed in his hands and Aedan’s body shivered but not his hand as the blade struck true. However, what haunted him most was Evelyn’s terrified eyes staring back at him, of how shocked she was when Aedan gave her a mercy killing._

_”You could have reversed this…”_

“No! Evelyn!”

Aedan’s eyes snapped and he bolted upright, his frame trembling at the insinuation of what Evelyn was saying. 

“Easy there, Inquisitor. I’d rather you not undo Vivienne’s hard work. She’ll be most displeased at both you and me.”

Dorian’s face swam into his view and Aedan saw the small dark circles under his eyes, the way his white robes were torn at the top and sides. 

“Did…did we get what we needed?”

“Fasta vass! That’s what you’re worried about?” Dorian chided him. “We’ve barely survived this first dragon. All because of Cullen’s name day gift. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re rather taken with our handsome Commander.”

Aedan grew silent but his ears reddened and it wasn’t due to the reaver training. 

“Oh, my,” Dorian laughed lightly, his mustache quivering with mirth. “You’re more than taken with him. You’re in-“

“Hey, he’s awake!” Sera’s shout thankfully cut off Dorian’s sentence and Aedan smiled at the approaching blonde elf. She had three rabbits in hand, freshly killed and skinned. Unlike Dorian, her armor was barely damaged at her and her face was clear of dirt and blood. Being a ranged fighter had its advantages after all and her thousand cuts move certainly helped down the dragon as well.

“Vivvy is puckering her lips at something. Probably my smell, yeah?”

“Or maybe the dead rabbits you’re holding in your hand?” Aedan deadpanned and Sera’s genuine concern followed by her sniffing at her armpit made him laugh until the movement pulled at the wound in his side. He looked down and discovered that someone, probably Vivienne, had wrapped his chest in huge swaths of white cloth, with the knots being tied at the shoulder. He didn’t recall breaking a few ribs but the adrenaline surge caused by his rampage most likely lifted his pain threshold so high that he didn’t feel it. 

“I did that, Herald,” Sera explained the knot, which was quite intricate and Aedan wondered where she learned that skill from. No doubt from wherever she learned her archery skills. It was something to ask of Sera when they would return to Skyhold. She walked past the two men and went to the small campfire to prep and cook their next meal. 

The familiar tents in the small alcove that they camped in told Aedan that they somehow made it back to camp. But how could his three companions make it back to safety with hauling him around?

A soft braying sound echoed in the area to the right of where he was lying down and the Red Hard, beautiful and majestic, tossed its head at him. 

“You’re rather heavy so we had to use your beast to transport you safely here,” Dorian explained and the dark-haired mage pulled a face of distress. “Your beast almost bit me, by the way.”

“Oh…sorry,” Aedan looked sheepish. He still needs to train his new ‘horse’. “The Dalish aren’t known for breaking in their hall or harts.”

“Hmm. Considering their stubbornness to cling to an outdated culture, I’m not surprised.” The mage muttered and Aedan just shook his head at the way Dorian shook his head. 

“Are you well enough to travel to Skyhold now? It’s only 6 days of travel on horseback and I’m sure a certain Commander is awaiting our return.”

“Maker’s breath, Dorian,” Aedan’s ears reddened at the tips, prompting another tease from Dorian. 

“I swear not to tell anyone if you give me a bottle of the finest wine from Redcliffe Castle  
stores.”

The answering groan from the injured warrior elicited a light laugh and Vivienne, approaching them from the opposite side of the camp, quirked an eyebrow at them, wondering what on Thedas was going on. 

-O0O-

#### Ten Days Later 

“What do you mean they were delayed?” Cullen’s voice boomed in in his spacious tower. The scout flinched a little bit but kept going with his report. 

“They were fighting a dragon, ser and the Inquisitor was severely wounded. According to Madame Vivienne, a few days’ rests was vital.”

“And where are they now?” The Commander knew he was being unreasonably angry with the scout but hearing this type of news, of the Herald being wounded, always pushed his stress levels past their limits. He hated how he couldn’t be there to protect the man but as an advisor and Commander to the Inquisition forces, he couldn’t leave his post. At least Leliana could send out her scouts and ravens to keep an eye, or rather several eyes, on the Herald and his party. All the Commander could do was wait for the scouts’ return. 

“They’re close by now, ser, approaching the gate,” the scout’s hands fidgeted a little bit. The poor scout appeared to be anxious to leave Cullen’s office. 

“Then, get a healer and whatever else the Herald needs, now!”

“Y-yes, sir!” The scout jumped to his feet and then quickly ran out of the office. 

Cullen leaned over his desk and closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing, which will hopefully keep the growing ache in his temples away. It had been at least six months since the last lyrium was taken and he sincerely hoped that he can endure the pain until this whole Corpheus business was over with. Just one day at a time. 

He had wanted to greet the Herald to discuss reports. It certainly wasn’t due to a desire to see how badly injured Aedan was. Maker help him, when did he start thinking of him as Aedan and not the Herald? However, these reports weren’t going to get done by themselves. 

A soft rap on the door drew the Commander out of his musings and it opened on its own, the visitor not even bothering to wait for an answer. 

“Inquisitor!”

Aedan stepped into his office, his face paler than usual and Cullen could see the edges of white cloth peeking out of the man’s usual outdoor attire. The way Aedan’s hand stayed close to his left side gave evidence of cracked or possibly broken ribs and Cullen wanted to reach out and comfort him. 

In reality, he was shocked into inaction and that made him even more guilty about not being present when Aedan was injured. 

“No welcoming handshake or hug?” Aedan joked and Cullen let out a weak chuckle. If Aedan was joking, then the wounds must have healed. 

“I heard of what happened,” Cullen began and he walked closer to the man, his fingers reaching out to the spot where Aedan was lightly pressing against. Once he realized what he was doing, however, Cullen pulled back and his head ducked to the side. He shouldn’t…

“Cullen, I want to give you something, but not here,” Aedan said softly and Cullen looked up to find blue eyes gazing at him. They were clear and alert, not at all the signs of a man who had just fought a bloody dragon and was using his blood to do damage.

“Where?” 

“Dagna has it. C’me on, I think you’ll like it,” Aedan smiled at him and Cullen’s heart melted at the sweet gesture. The thought of rejecting him would no longer bring those sweet smiles to Aedan’s face. Perhaps he can wait a little longer, to consider all options before making a decision. 

“Alright,” Cullen stood up and he followed Aedan to where Dagna was, all the while listening to the wild tales of Aedan’s first tussle with a dragon. He was so enraptured with Aedan’s stories that he didn’t notice they were going through the main hall already. 

A handful of people milled about the hall, some whispering almost conspiratorially at them, possibly wondering why the two leaders were here out in the open and not in the War Room or somewhere else. One Orlesian noble, a young woman in an overly large white dress with a green mask, stared at him a little longer than what was appropriate. 

Aedan merely smiled and greeted at everyone, sometimes saying a ‘hello’ or ‘how do you do’? The man seemed so at ease at talking with everyone, especially the few Orlesians that had come to visit Skyhold. 

“I promise you’ll like it,” Aedan kept saying as if the Herald was trying to reassure himself and not Cullen of the gift’s recipient. 

“I’m sure I will,” Cullen’s reassurance resulted in the man beaming at him again. 

The two men entered the undercroft, where both Dagna and Harritt awaited them expectantly. 

Cullen had seen the undercroft once when Aedan was showing it off, but that was weeks ago. Now, it seemed improved and had more contraptions occupying the space. One of them brought a shiver down his spine and Cullen tried to avert his eyes with the empty ones of the emaciated skull. Instead, he glanced at the familiar and still ridiculous looking nug statue, made out of pure gold. 

“How much did that statue cost you again?” Cullen had to ask. It had to be atrociously expensive.

“Oh, that?” Aedan quickly glanced at the golden nug. “You don’t want to know how much. It’s ridiculous. But never mind that.”

“Inquisitor! Oh goody! You brought my test subject!” The Arcanist looked positively gleeful and Cullen began to grow nervous. 

“He’s not a test subject. Stop saying stuff like that, Dagna. Otherwise, I’m never bringing you any visitors.” Aedan’s face was half-serious, half-joking. The man appeared torn between chastising the Arcanist and laughing with her. 

Dagna pouted but grinned at Aedan’s gesture to the table behind her.

“Oh yes! I made this just in time. It just needs a final touch and that’s Cullen’s blood.”

“What?!” 

Cullen’s shout echoed loudly in the crafting chamber and all of the occupants winced at the Commander’s indignation.

“It’s not blood magic,” Aedan tried to explain but Cullen wouldn’t hear of it. 

“If it has to have blood, it’s blood magic,” Cullen firmly said, crossing his arms over his chest. Aedan sighed heavily and slapped a hand over his eyes. 

“Dagna, please explain to our Commander what this is,” Aedan moaned.

“Oh of course!” Dagna’s face was too cheery for the seriousness of this situation. Honestly, one would think that Dagna enjoyed making people uncomfortable with this weirdness.  
The red-haired dwarf started talking and gesturing about the armor, how it was crafted out of the finest materials the Inquisitor could find and how it could grow as the Commander’s skills improve over time. The armor remarkably looked exactly like the one he’s currently wearing but it had sharper edges and looked to be constructed out of dawnstar. How on Thedas did Aedan even find that material? The purple metal was only found in the Emprise du Lion area and that region has yet to be scouted. 

“It can only grow if your essence is part of it,” Dagna finished and Cullen uncrossed his arms, thus softening his previous stance on the armor. “It is your choice, Commander.”

“Yes,” Aedan agreed and the poor man looked ready to be rejected, with his hands fumbling about and his eyes looking everywhere except at him. 

“Just this once,” Cullen said and Dagna gave him a small dagger.

“It’s best if you do it,” Dagna told him and her small index finger pointed at an empty slot in the armor’s chest piece. “The intentions are what makes the finest crafts.”

Cullen released a shaky exhale and he pricked a finger with the dagger. He watched with morbid fascination as the blood droplets fell into the empty slot. 

A loud humming sound came into being and Cullen saw that the armor was glowing. Was it supposed to do that?

“Aedan…” his voice sounded so far away and garbled as if he was speaking underwater. The room started to darken, with the armor being the only thing that shone. Someone was speaking to him, distant and worried. He felt light-headed and he couldn’t shake that humming sound off, couldn’t ignore it as it seeped into his very being.

The ground below him weaved up and down, and all around until Cullen couldn’t keep his sense of balance. The room darkened and even the armor fell from his sight. The only things he saw were blue eyes, the color of lyrium and yet that shade did not bring him pain. Instead, it anchored him and he fell willingly into the deep blue depths. 

-o0o-

“Cullen!”

Aedan cursed at the sight of the Commander clutching at his head with a gloved hand and he reached out to steady the blonde man with a hand. The man acted as if he was drunk, his feet tripping over themselves and his breathing came in quick pants. Upon being touched, he pitched forward and Aedan quickly caught him by the waist, sparing the Commander of breaking a nose or bruising his face on the hard, unforgiving stone floor.

A moan escaped his friend and Aedan gently turned him over, only to find glazed amber eyes looking up at his own. His name was exhaled out of those scarred lips and Aedan called out Cullen’s name, a hand lightly patting the man’s pale cheek. 

“Cullen! Cullen! Damn it, Harritt,” Aedan turned to regard the Ferelden smith, who knelt at his side after seeing the commotion. “Get Solas and Vivienne. Tell them to hurry here.”

“Right away, Inquisitor!” Harritt hurried out of the undercroft, leaving Aedan and Dagna alone with an unconscious Commander. 

“Dagna, I thought you said this wasn’t going to hurt him,” Aedan said angrily at the red-haired dwarf. 

Dagna’s face pulled with remorse and the dwarf’s fingers twisted in themselves. 

“It-it wasn’t supposed to work like that,” Dagna replied and the answer prompted another angry response from the Inquisitor.

“And just how was it exactly supposed to work?”

“The book said that the recipient’s essence would improve the stats of the armor and let it improve over time. Of course…there were squiggly lines underneath and,”

Dagna’s sentence drifted off and Aedan was about to prod her in continuing when the door slammed open, with footsteps rushing into the crafting room. 

At the head of it was Leliana, the spymaster’s emotionless face in sharp contrast to Solas’ concerned expression. Vivienne’s face was unusually emotional for the stoic enchanter – fine eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern with lips twisted into a fine grimace.

“Inquisitor,’ the spymaster called out and the group drew closer to where Aedan and Dagna were huddled around another form. She paused for a second, looking from Cullen’s still body to the Inquisitor and then to Dagna before going back to Aedan’s face. 

“I’ve heard what happened and have already cleared out the hallway.”

The two mages firmly pushed Aedan and Dagna out of the way until Cullen suddenly seized up, his limbs flailing about and his back arching horribly off the ground. Seeing this and not being able to do anything about it made Aedan’s heartache. 

The Herald held the Commander’s head in a firm grip, a hand underneath the back of the head while another laid itself on the man’s forehead. Almost immediately Cullen shuddered and then stilled, his breaths slowing back to an uneasy cadence of in and out. 

“Whatever this is, it seems there’s now a deeper connection between you and the Commander,” Solas said, more out of an observation rather than an actual explanation.

“That’s what the page mentioned,” Dagna confirmed and everyone looked at her in various degrees of horror and surprise. 

“We’ll get to that later,” Aedan’s tone was commanding and nonsensical. “Cullen-I mean the Commander needs our help now. Is there any way he can be moved to my quarters? It’s closer than Solas’ or Vivienne’s rooms.”

“Of course,” Leliana gestured to a scout at her side, who nodded her head and seemingly disappeared into thin air. “Charter will go to Iron Bull -,”

“No,” Solas shook his head at the red-haired spymaster’s request. “He needs to be kept close to the Herald. We do not want to risk what will happen otherwise.”

If the seizures were just from pushing the Inquisitor to the side for a moment, Solas did not want to consider the consequences of a long absence. 

“I can carry him,” Aedan offered and the Herald was already helping Cullen up, the man a heavyweight in his arms. He didn’t miss the way Cullen’s head lolled against his neck nor how Cullen’s legs were completely not holding the man’s weight. Sighing, the Herald took a deep breath and then bent at the knees, slinging the man over his shoulder as carefully as he could. 

The movement elicited a soft groan and then nothing more. 

Although the quarters were some paces away from the undercroft, the distance felt much longer as Aedan’s burden slowed his normal pace. Throughout the trip, only Cullen stayed silent and that worried the Inquisitor much more than anything else. 

He breathed out a sigh of relief when the group finally reached the top of the stairs and he gently sat the Commander on the bed.

His people moved about around him, with Solas and Vivienne murmuring to each other softly while Dagna had brought her big book, pointing out to where she found the ‘recipe’ for her armor. 

Maker’s breath, it was supposed to be a simple gift for the Commander, to show that he cared for him a lot. 

Now, Cullen was slumped against him, quiet and still but in the worst way. Soft breaths brushed against his neck as he undid the clasps and buckles of the blonde’s chest piece. It was the only sign of Cullen being alive. 

A few moments later, the Commander was stripped down to his smallclothes and seeing the bare chest made Aedan blush slightly. He was well built – the pecs well defined and muscular with a fine blonde happy trail leading from the small belly button to hide underneath the top part of the bottom smallclothes. 

Any other day, Aedan would have been delighted and be very much aroused to see the Commander so bare. Now, he had to swallow down his arousal and hope that the mages can help him. 

Once Aedan pulled a thick blanket over him, Solas placed his slender hands over the body with blue light emanating from the palms and covering the Commander’s body. The exam was quick, too quick for Aedan’s comfort for it hinted that Cullen was hurt in the mind, in the spirit, in an area where Aedan could not go. 

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor,” Solas lowered his hands and the elf’s eyes held a hint of remorse. “Cullen is physically and spiritually fine. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s as if he’s merely asleep.”

“Try again,” Aedan’s voice was unintentionally harsh and the elven mage quirked an eyebrow at the brusque command. Aedan’s anguished look, however, stopped whatever Solas was going to say.

“Dagna, did you show Solas where you got the idea from?”

“Err…yes but-“ 

“How does he feel about-?”

Oh, that. Aedan had forgotten that the armor required blood to work properly and that’s what caused all this mess. No point in hiding it now.

“Solas, Vivienne, do you know of anything about blood being used to craft armor?”

Silence stole into the room and Aedan immediately regretted even asking Dagna to make the cursed armor. He should have gotten Cullen a mabari instead.

“That is not so commonplace as you’d think, Inquisitor,” Vivienne said in a measured tone as if the very discussion of blood magic was an anathema. “No one in the Circle of Magi dared to research this particular topic and for good reason.”

The court enchanter gave Dagna a disappointed look before returning her gaze to Aedan and Solas. 

“From what Dagna was showing me,” she continued and her fingers pressed lightly against Cullen’s temples before drawing away. “The blood was used as a catalyst to power the armor. Thus, no one but Cullen can wear it. However, the recipe failed to include this specific result. Nothing was supposed to happen to the wearer.”

“Well, he hasn’t worn it yet. It was supposed to be a gift,” Aedan muttered and Solas’ eyes widened in a soft surprise. 

“A gift? From you to him perhaps?” The question was rhetorical and it gave Aedan hope that perhaps the elven mage had answers for him. 

“Solas, please, if you know anything that could help,” Aedan began. 

“From my findings in the Fade,” Solas started, even despite Vivienne scoffing at his tales. “if a gift is given to the recipient and if there are mutual feelings between them, then that serves as a catalyst. It is very powerful magic and I’m honestly surprised that a stone-child was able to find this recipe, to begin with.”

“Aww, thanks!” Dagna’s face beamed at Solas’ statement but Aedan was quite sure it was an insult laced into the compliment. 

“So it isn’t blood magic then?” Aedan had to ask. He didn’t want to risk Cullen’s life over an easily replaceable gift. 

“Yes and no,” came the cryptic remark. “Blood was used, so yes but there were no demons involved. Only the deep trust between the giver and the recipient.”

At this, Aedan blushed and he had to turn his head away from his friends. 

“I can think of no better partner for you, Inquisitor,” Solas’ quiet acceptance came as a shock to Aedan, who regarded the elf a little suspiciously. “These are dark times and I fear we may all need to seek comfort where we can.” 

“So, what can be done for Cullen?” 

“He is physically fine. However, the magic of this intensity can exhaust the mind. He will rest for a while and your presence will quicken his recovery. Should you leave, however, I fear it may do otherwise.”

“Leliana,” Aedan addressed the bard, who was patiently waiting by the top of the stairs. For once, the bard was giving him privacy but only the illusion of it perhaps. The Inquisitor knew that somewhere a scout was keeping watch over him. 

“Inquisitor, nothing paramount needs your attention over the next day or two. After that, however, I cannot promise anything.”

Aedan nodded at the implication that life will go on, even when the Commander was sick.  
He looked at Cullen, who was now resting peacefully in his bed. The Commander’s form appeared to be smaller as if the armor was holding the rest of the world back from the body. 

The blonde man mumbled something, a soft name of ‘Aedan’ before moving his hand as if reaching out for someone. Aedan reached out to grip the Commander’s hand and the motion resulted in Cullen relaxing his brow.

It was going to be a long two days and Aedan hoped to see Cullen awaken sooner. They need to stop dancing around each other like this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since his infatuation with the Inquisitor, demons plagued his dreams to no end. The lack of lyrium made the demons more intense as if the blue liquid had once protected him from the worst of the Fade’s denizens. “Demon, get out of my head!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely NSFW so enjoy!

#### Ferelden, South Reach

A gentle hand brushed against his forehead, soft words echoing in the dark depths of his dream. 

“Cullen…honey,”

That voice, familiar in tone but not the endearment, pulled him closer to this side of reality.  


Weary eyes fluttered open and Aedan’s tanned face, open of affection and smiling at him, greeted him upon waking. 

“No!” Cullen rose from where he was laying on the bed, the blankets tumbling down to collect around his bare chest. He’d been here before, in the warm quarters of the Inquisitor’s private room.

Ever since his infatuation with the Inquisitor, demons plagued his dreams to no end. The lack of lyrium made the demons more intense as if the blue liquid had once protected him from the worst of the Fade’s denizens. “Demon, get out of my head!”

His hands fumbled for a blade but there was none to be found. 

Instead, he found only himself and Aedan in the large bed, silk satin brushing underneath his body like a lover’s, soft and tempting. However, he was half-dressed, bare-chested but with his smallclothes on. So, the demon wanted to prolong the torture. It had put quite a bit of effort into making this dream so real.

Aedan’s eyes peered at him in concern and a hand reached out to him. Instinctively, Cullen swatted the hand away, not trusting the demon to touch him so intimately. 

“Cullen…it’s been several years since you’ve had these nightmares…unless…”

The demon did something unexpected then. It pulled away from him and covered his body with a heavy blanket. The Commander hadn’t realized he was so cold until warmth suffused into him from the heavy furs. 

“I’m going to contact Dorian,” the demon quietly said before clasping at the strange crystal hanging around the inquisitor’s neck. The demon only had one arm and that little bit of detail startled the Commander. Since when do demons show any weaknesses? 

Cullen watched with suspicion as the crystal glowed a light blue and then Dorian’s voice came through, the delight of finally talking with a friend evident in the mage’s greetings. 

“Inquisitor! Thank goodness for your timing; I was just about to shock an idiot for his stupid antics.”

Another voice grumbled at him. “If I hadn’t saved your perky ass, you’d be dead.”  
Iron Bull? 

“Bull, I need Dorian’s full attention. Something’s happened to Cullen.” Aedan’s blue eyes glanced at his direction before turning back to the crystal.

Dorian, for once, went quiet and so did Iron Bull. 

Was this still a dream? The demons were so territorial that only one tempted him, not three. It either must be a very powerful desire demon or perhaps this was….this was something. Not a dream but not his Aedan either. 

“I need to ask him some questions, Aedan if he’s able and willing,” Dorian spoke after a lengthy pause. 

Aedan agreed and he turned fully to Cullen, the crystal still glowing a faint blue. 

“Commander,” Dorian’s voice was calm and soothing as if the mage was trying to hypnotize into compliance. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions. You don’t have to answer but it’ll help us see what’s going on.”

“Questions? I don’t-“

“It’s confusing, I know. But please, for Aedan’s sake,” Dorian pleaded uncharacteristically and genuinely. 

“Alright,” Cullen acquiesced after considering the idea. Aedan’s eyes, blue and soft, gazed at him worriedly. 

“Ok, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I…I was with the Inquisitor, in the Undercroft…” The memories were fuzzy and he shut his eyes, trying to piece together the missing pieces of a hazy dream. 

“Good first step. Ok, here’s the next question – what year is this?”

“What year? It’s 9:41 Dragon.”

“Did he say 9:41?” Dorian asked though Cullen was unsure if the mage was asking Aedan or Iron Bull. 

“That’s five years ago,” Aedan said in a hushed voice, almost too quietly for Cullen to hear. 

“Oh dear, I fear we may be going through another sense of time travel again, except this time it’s the spirit that’s doing so, not the physical.”

The convoluted statement confused the Commander and the blonde man stared blankly at Aedan. 

5 years? How? Where? What happened to the Inquisition? To Corypheus?

His breathing quickened, to the point where he was breathing too fast to take in proper air. The room got colder and he shivered, even though he should be warm underneath the thick blankets.

“Cullen? Maker’s balls…Dorian…I need to go-“

Whatever Dorian was saying through the crystal got lost in the maelstrom of Cullen’s thoughts.

His eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched at the covers. 

Everything he knew was gone…Skyhold…the Inquisition, even his own Aedan. It was all gone…

A hand gripped his chin and tipped his head up, forcing him to look into the Inquisitor’s eyes.

“One breath at a time, Cullen,” Aedan commanded, “focus on my voice.”

And he was always good at following orders. So, Cullen focused on the baritones of Aedan’s voice, of the way the Inquisitor gazed at him steadily but with no judgment in their eyes. How could he even consider rejecting his own Aedan when this one loved him dearly. 

“There we go,” Aedan encouraged his efforts, the praise sending something jolting down his spine. “You’re doing great, breath in and out.”

Once his body managed to procure more air, Cullen’s vision cleared, the tiny dots eventually disappearing back into the proper colors of his vision. 

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Cullen’s voice was strained and the Commander was shocked at how exhausted he sounded. 

“So,” Cullen had to ask, against his better judgment, “your Cullen must be...”

“He’s still in there, somewhere. Either unaware of your arrival or possibly laughing at me as I did say to him that we’ve seen it all just last night.” Aedan looked like he wanted to continue. Instead, he carefully placed a hand on the Commander’s shoulder and gripped it firmly.

“We’ll get you both home,” Aedan said and the Inquisitor leaned closer, his lips almost covering their scarred counterparts. Cullen inhaled and he smelled the subtle mint and honey undertones in Aedan’s breath. The Inquisitor always liked honey and apparently that didn’t change in this reality or wherever he was. 

At first, Aedan appeared to want to kiss him but the man held back and sighed heavily, bowing his head lowly. 

“It’s…it wouldn’t be right…” Aedan’s voice, husky and deep, was startlingly quiet as if the man was about to tell him a dark secret. “Who you are now, you weren’t sure and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Maker’s breath…just one more thing to fall in love with about the Inquisitor.

Cullen opened his mouth to say something, that he wasn’t going to say ‘no’ but Aedan was already making his way to the door, perhaps trying to give Cullen some space. 

“I’ll get you some food and I know Mace is just dying to see you now but he can wait till you get some rest.” Aedan threw one last glance at the man in the bed before exiting the room, leaving behind a still very confused Commander.

At hearing its name, a raucous bark could be heard on the other side of the door and Cullen’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. 

A mabari? Since when did they get a mabari?

Cullen knew he should probably sleep; perhaps the next time he’ll wake up, he should be back in his real body.

He slid down further into the comfortable bed and belatedly realized that the quarters he was in was not the main Inquisitor’s quarters at all. 

The overly spacious room was replaced by a small bedroom, with two windows on one side of the wall while a modest set of drawers took up residence on the opposite wall facing the windows.

The decorum was spartan but of high quality – the drawer set’s dark hues gave evidence that it was crafted out of Bocote wood, found only in the northern woods of Val Firmin.

Even the bed was of luxurious material, with the bed sheets crafted from satin that were probably made in Val Royeaux, a city known for selling high-quality items.

As Cullen inspected the room, he was pleased to find a very familiar set of armor pieces, with the red mantle lying on the table next to him. His sword was nowhere to be found, however, and that worried him a little.

How were this version of Cullen and Aedan able to defend themselves from home invaders?  
His musings would have continued if it were not for the soft click of the door and Aedan appeared with a small tray of food and drink. He was also not alone in the door for a monstrous shadow darted straight towards him, canines on display. 

“Mace! Hold!”

The command went unheeded and the mabari bounded for him. 

The animal was quick for its weight and size but it didn’t bite him as Cullen expected. Instead, it licked him on the cheek, several times before whining and pawing at his covered thighs. 

“Now I know why my sword isn’t here,” Cullen said and he hesitated for a minute before throwing caution to the wind and petting Mace on the head. The mabari let out a sound of pleasure and whined again, pawing at his thighs.

“Shoo, Mace! He’s alright. He’s not our Cullen but he’s Cullen,” Aedan made a valiant attempt in kicking Mace out of the way while still balancing a tray in his hands. 

“When did we get him?” The mabari were rare to see outside of Ferelden and Cullen was genuinely curious to know how Aedan, a Free Marcher Noble, was able to get a hold of one. 

“You-I mean he adopted him,” Aedan managed to place the tray on the nightstand before sitting down next to Cullen, his body radiating a delicious warmth that made the Commander want to slide closer to him. “He always wanted a mabari and he saw one that was abandoned at the Winter Palace. He looked so excited at seeing Mace and I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

“I adopted him? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Cullen laughed and the sound made Aedan smile at him. By the Maker, he loves seeing the Inquisitor smile. It was genuine and soft; it also twisted at Cullen’s insides, as if the smile directed at him was undeserving and he was unworthy of the man’s adoration. 

At that thought, Cullen knew why he wanted to reject Aedan – it was impossible for a noble of high ranking to ever want a broken former templar, a tortured man whose original views of mages had set him on a self-destructive path until Kirkwall occurred. The lyrium withdrawal made him even weaker and more self-deprecating and there couldn’t be any way that Aedan wanted to be shackled to a man like him.

“Cullen,” Aedan called out to him in that painfully gentle tone. It set his heart on fire and Cullen didn’t want to look at Aedan. He didn’t want to see the pity in those blue eyes. 

A hand palmed his cheek and Cullen unconsciously leaned into it. _Maker, I’m so tired of this…I want…_

Cullen took the proffered hand and kissed the palm reverently. The action drew a sharp inhale from the man and Cullen wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have done that. After all, he wasn’t this world’s Cullen.

Aedan leaned into the man, ensuring that their eyes met. 

“Are you certain? I’m not your Aedan,”

“I’ve read your report of the time travel back in Redcliffe. I have an idea that this may be my future, our future. I just…I want…”

Maker, he can’t get the words out, can’t find the right ones to tell Aedan, even if it was a future Aedan, that he could never reject him now. If this future meant that the Inquisition survived, that he and Aedan were still together and happy, then they were meant to endure.  
“I’m certain,” Cullen said with such finality that it shocked the Commander himself.

Aedan’s face beamed happily at him and the man drew closer to him, impossibly close to where lips then slanted over his and soon they were sharing each other’s breaths.

Cullen realized that kissing a man was no different than a woman. The only difference was perhaps how powerfully Aedan thrust his tongue into his mouth, at how he was responding by equally mimicking his movements as well. 

Licks of desire trickled down his spine and the Commander made a small noise in the back of his throat at a hand caressing his throat before traveling downwards and tracing the outline of his abdominal muscles. 

The muscles fluttered underneath sword-calloused fingers and Cullen broke away from the kiss with a strained gasp when the hand firmly clasped around his loins.

“Maker…oh…”

Aedan’s lips tugged into a smirk at the Commander’s simple reaction and the Inquisitor left a trail of kisses from his mouth, down his throat that was bared to the man by Aedan’s right hand tugging his hair, and slowly, achingly slowly down to his belly button. 

Cullen’s hands flew to cover his mouth as he released an embarrassing moan at the warm sensation swallowing him whole without warning. 

“…nnngg…you…”

Aedan’s eyes peered upwards at him and there was a challenge in those blue eyes. 

_Look at me…look at me who’s giving you all this attention…_

Cullen swallowed and, Maker forgive him, he couldn’t stand the sight. It was too much.  
A firm hand guided his own to Aedan’s hair, where his fingers willingly buried themselves in the rich brown hair. It was permission for Cullen to make as many sounds as he can. 

“I want to hear you, my love,” Aedan whispered, a slick of saliva connecting the man’s red lips to the head of his cock. “We’re safe. No one can hear us, no one but you and me.”

What tension remained in his body dissipated almost immediately at the statement and Aedan released a pleased sound before ducking down. 

Wet heat surrounded his shaft and then firm flesh brushed against his, trailing from the bottom to the head, where the tip of Aedan’s tongue pushed hard unto a spot where the head met the shaft. 

His vision whitened and Cullen arched upwards, hands clutching tightly at the man’s hair. His chest hurt and he cried out as Aedan did the same motion again until he couldn’t hold it in. 

“A-Aedan!”

Semen splashed unto his chest and stomach and Cullen’s body shuddered as Aedan took some of the seed, coating his fingers in it before caressing down the perineum and then edging their way into his hole. 

He tensed, unsure of how this was going to go. 

He’d never willingly let another man take him. Uldred’s depravity robbed of whatever pleasures could be found from this and Cullen shivered at the memory of clawed hands digging deep inside him. 

“Cullen,” a whisper of his name and hands gently caressed his flanks, as if soothing a scared animal.

“It’s just me,” his lover said soothingly. “Look at me, Cullen.”

The commanding voice prompted him to open his eyes. Instead of Uldred’s face, he saw only Aedan’s. How could he mistake these loving caresses for the cruel touches of that depraved mage? The strong chiseled jaw with high cheekbones gave the man a hard, edged look. But it was the kind blue eyes that attracted him and the acceptance he saw on the sun-kissed face.  
“I’m here. I will always be here,” the man said, “and if you want to stop, just tell me.”

“No…I-I want to keep going,” Cullen’s face blushed at an answering thrust into his groin and he clutched at Aedan’s muscled arms, strong and solid from all the years of wielding a two-handed weapon. The former templar is sure that he might be strong enough to hold him up against the wall and give him the best fucking of his entire life. 

For now, he was content with the lingering kisses and how reverently Aedan’s fingers dipped inside of him, caressing him and wriggling deeper until they finally bumped into what Aedan was looking for. 

Cullen’s eyes widened and he arched into Aedan’s chest as the fingers brushed against that spot again. Desire clawed at him mercilessly but Cullen knew that this was no trick of a desire demon. 

The way Aedan breathed his name against his throat, of how he whispered words of encouragement into his flesh made Cullen want to lose himself in this man’s arms. 

“I’m…ugh…I’m ready…”

Aedan’s head moved away to regard him closely, to see if he was truly ready for this.  
He nodded his head and then kissed Aedan, a tongue brushing against Aedan’s lips. 

“Ok,” Aedan huffed out and pulled out his fingers, leaving Cullen bereft of the fullness but not for a moment too long till the head of a cock, slickened in some oil, pushed against him. 

He tried to relax but the push burned him and he tightened in reflex, drawing out a moan from the both of them. 

Aedan panted as if the man was having just as much trouble as he was in this act of connecting on such an intimate level. 

“Bear with it, please,” a kiss, a lick on a sensitive nipple which sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. Aedan placed his full weight on Cullen’s chest, no longer able to support himself on a single hand.

“Nngh…uhhh…” A hand stroking his cock just the way he likes it in his lonely moments to himself. Cullen trembled as those two simple actions relaxed his body enough for Aedan to move further inside of him until finally, the Inquisitor couldn’t go any deeper. 

By the Maker, he was so full and he couldn’t tell if the whimpers and the pleas came from him or Aedan.

“I have to move, love,” Aedan told him, his voice strained with control of possibly not trying to screw him into the bed. 

Another nod and then a loud shout of ‘Aedan!’ echoed in the room.

“You are loved,” Aedan said to him, “you are wanted by me, now and for as long as I shall live.”

Cullen gasped and moaned at the thrusts, made more powerful by Aedan wrapping his arm underneath his back and around a shoulder as leverage for this push and pull, this give and take of their bodies.

“You may not be my Cullen of this time,” Aedan was still talking though each sentence sounded more strained as the man continued talking. “But you will be in your Aedan’s time…”

There, a final push and Cullen’s vision exploded into white stars. A gasp of Aedan’s name tumbled out of kiss-bruised lips at the same as his essence escaped his cock. His heart was so full, so aching of love that Cullen wrapped his arms around the man’s chest, panting in Aedan’s ear.

“I…I love you…” Cullen managed to say before falling still, his arms sliding down Aedan’s frame and unto the sides. Maker, he was so tired.

“Cullen? Cullen?”

Aedan was just about to pull out and call Dorian until those amber eyes opened and a flicker of recognition sparked an indescribable joy in Aedan. 

“Maker…what happened…did I fall asleep?”

“Ohh, Cullen!”

Aedan bent his head down to kiss his Cullen, the former templar who rose to prominent leadership in the Inquisition and had now successfully broken free of the lyrium leash that once bound him to the Templar Order.

As his Cullen let out an incredulous sound of surprise at being full followed by a breathy sigh once Aedan started again, finding this moment a perfect excuse to take his lover again.

Moments later, as the two huddled closer to each other, relishing from having achieved wondrous pleasures together, Aedan tangled their fingers together and let out a small moan at Cullen kissing him again.

“So, it was me but not me?”

“Yes, the ‘you’ before our relationship started.”

“Hmm, well,” Cullen brought a leg over and then swiftly rolled over the taller man. “I’m glad you gave the old me sound advice. I would not miss this for the world, ever.”

Any words that Aedan was about to say were captured by the former templar and Aedan truly hoped that the other Cullen would find this happiness. After all, it was destiny, wasn’t it?


End file.
